


the light is blue

by waveydnp



Series: dee and fi [9]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Established Relationship, F/F, Poetry, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19839028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: dee reads fi poetry on the beach





	the light is blue

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday renee 🖤
> 
> -
> 
> this fic includes excerpts of the moon and the yew tree by sylvia plath

“This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary. The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue. The grasses unload their griefs on my feet as if I were God.”

She pauses, as if to stop and take in the words and their meaning. One hand holds the tattered old book, fingers spread to keep the page open, the other buried in Fi’s hair. 

The back of Fi’s head is pillowed by Dee’s stomach, and she watches the waves crash against the rocks as Dee reads to her.

“That sounds sad,” Fi says, wrapping her arms around herself. It’s cold today, the sky clouded over in a million shades of grey and blue. 

“It is, I think,” Dee replies. “Most of her poems are.”

“Whose?”

Dee chuckles softly, pushing Fi’s fringe up and out of the way to lay her palm flat against her forehead. “You never remember this stuff.”

Fi shrugs. “I don’t understand poetry, but it sounds pretty when it’s you reading it.”

“It’s Sylvia Plath.”

Fi nods, and digs her bare toes into the wet sand. “What does it mean?”

“It’s about her parents,” Dee says. “And the view from her bedroom window.”

“Keep going.”

Dee’s voice competes with the sounds of the sea and the wind and Fi can’t make out every word, but she listens because she likes that Dee shares these things with her now. It means a lot, even if Fi doesn’t know exactly what.

She fists her hands in the sleeves of her jumper, her knuckles stretching the material. She didn’t dress warmly enough for late afternoon on the beach, even if it is July. The sun stays hidden and the wind blows salty air off the water. She can feel goosebumps raising the hair on her arms.

Dee’s jumper is soft beneath Fi’s cheek as she turns her head to the side. Dee strokes her thumb over Fi’s eyebrow as she reads the last lines of the poem.

“And the message of the yew tree is blackness – blackness and silence.”

They lie there on the beach, on the big red and white checked blanket Kath had given them, sitting in their own feelings about the words Dee had spoken into the air.

They weren’t Dee’s words, of course, but she chose the book and she chose the poem, and that means something. That’s something personal, even if the words weren’t conceived in her own brain. 

“That felt bleak,” Fi says. She hopes it’s not the wrong thing to say.

But Dee says, “Yeah.”

“How does it make you feel?”

Dee makes a little noise that hints at laughter in the back of her throat. “You sound like my therapist.”

Fi turns around completely, chin dug into Dee’s belly so she can look up into big brown eyes. “Aren’t I?”

“I guess, yeah. Sometimes. In a way.” She closes the book and tucks it into her backpack carefully. 

Fi tries a different angle on the same question. “Do you like that poem?”

“Yeah.” She props herself up on her elbows and opens her legs for Fi to lie between. 

“What does it make you feel?”

“Sad,” she says, but she doesn’t sound sad. Thoughtful, maybe. “Seen.”

“I see you.”

Dee smiles again. “You do.”

Behind them looms a lighthouse, white with a strip of red around the middle. There are only a handful of other people scattered around the beach; overcast days don’t have much draw for the tourists, and if they come, they leave soon after. The wind can be biting and the water even colder.

That’s why they’re here. No one’s going to bother them on a day like today. 

Fi shivers. Dee sits up and pulls Fi with her, wrapping her fuzzy arms around her shoulders from behind. 

“You should’ve worn a coat, babe.”

Fi laughs, leaning her head back against Dee’s shoulder. “You sound like my mum.”

“She’s a clever woman, that Kathryn.”

Fi nods. Dee pulls her hair to the side and off her neck to lean in and press her lips there. That makes Fi shiver again, for a completely different reason.

“I hope your light is blue,” Fi says. “I hope it’s not cold and planetary.”

She feels the lips still brushing her skin turn up into a smile. “Doesn’t blue mean sad?”

Fi frowns. “Who decided that? I think blue is happy.”

“Blue is peaceful,” Dee says.

“Is your light peaceful?”

Dee hugs her tighter. “It is today.”

That’s probably as good an answer as Fi can hope for. Some days Dee’s light will be cold. Some days the message her mind relays to her will be blackness and silence, and Fi reckons it’s dangerous to hope that there will come a time when those days don’t exist anymore.

The days of quiet and darkness are fewer than the days of poetry and neck kisses and laughter and sharing their feelings.

“I’m cold,” Fi whines, when she can’t stop her teeth from chattering. 

Dee sighs. “Me too.”

Fi knows she probably doesn’t want to leave. She can’t change the fact that Dee occasionally feels drained by the togetherness of the Lester family, but she can sweeten the deal a little.

She stands and holds her hand out to help Dee up. “If we’re extra pathetic I bet mum’ll make us hot chocolate.”

“With marshmallows?”

Fi smiles. “Let’s go find out.”


End file.
